Bukowski bilingual: No Way To Paradise. / No hi ha camí al paradís.

buko ans woman

There is no way to Paradise because Heaven only exists in the mind of the weak. Free men are the strongest ones and prefer have sex, drink alcohol, read books, listen to music and see films instead of getting bored with stupid tales about gods, angels and demons in church, synagogue, or mosque because the free man is his own god.

No hi ha camí al Paradís perquè el Cel només existeix en la ment dels febles. Els homes lliures són els més forts i prefereixen tenir relacions sexuals, beure alcohol, llegir llibres, escoltar música i veure pel·lícules en lloc d’avorrir-se amb contes estúpids sobre déus, àngels i dimonis a l’església, sinagoga o mesquita perquè l’home lliure és el seu propi déu.

Rex

Aquest conte és de pur estil bukowskià. El protagonista, bastant deprimit, es troba a soles en un bar. Apareix una dona que porta tota una sorpresa: quatre homenets de deu cm., dos homes i dues dones. L’home i la dona “normals” estan esperant que facen l’amor. La situació, que en principi sembla grotesca però divertida, no deixarà de ser grotesca però profundament trista. Els homenets són realment una caricatura del ser humà, dels seus sentiments i les seues passions. Bukowski ve a dir-nos que malgrat que ens creiem déus de l’Olimp no som més que nans al servei i distracció d’altri. A continuació el conte en edició bilingüe. La traducció és meua; així que ja esteu avisats…

bukowski_lg caricaturI was sitting in a bar on Western Avenue. It was around midnight and I was in my usual confused state. I mean, you know, nothing works right: the women, the jobs, the no jobs, the weather, the dogs. Finally you just sit in a kind of stricken state and wait like you’re on the bus stop bench waiting for death.

Jo estava assegut en un bar de l’avinguda Western. Era al voltant de mitjanit i em trobava en el meu habitual estat de confusió. Vull dir, bé, ja saps, gens no funciona bé: les dones, el treball, l’oci, el temps, els gossos… Finalment només pots anar i asseure’t encantat, totalment noquejat, i esperar; com si estigueres en una parada d’autobús esperant la mort.

Well, I was sitting there and here comes this one with long dark hair, a good body, sad brown eyes. Ididn’t turn on for her. I ignored her even though she had taken the stool next to mine when there were a dozen other empty seats. In fact, we were the only ones in the bar except for the bartender. She ordered a dry wine. Then she asked me what I was drinking.

Bé, doncs jo estava allí assegut quan entra una amb el pèl llarg i bru, un bell cos i tristos ulls marrons. Jo no vaig donar la volta per a mirar-la, vaig seguir amb el meu got. La vaig ignorar fins i tot quan va venir i es va asseure al meu costat a pesar que tots els altres seients estaven buits. De fet, érem les úniques persones que hi havia en el bar sense contar l’encarregat. Va demanar un vi sec. Llavors em va preguntar el que estava bevent.

“Scotch and Water.”

-Escocés amb aigua -vaig contestar.

“Give him a scotch and water,” she told the barkeep.

-I servisca-li al senyor un escocés amb aigua -li va dir al cantiner.

Well that was unusual.

Bé, açò no era molt normal.

She opened her purse, removed a small wire cage and took some little people out and sat then on the bar. They were all around three inches tall and they were alive and properly dressed. There were four of them, two men and two women.

Va obrir la seua bossa, va agafar una xicoteta gàbia, va traure’n uns homenets i els va posar sobre la barra. Tenien al voltant de deu centímetres d’altura, estaven apropiadament vestits i semblaven tenir vida. Eren quatre: dues dones i dos homes.

“They make these now,” she said, “they’re expensive. They cost around $2,000 apience when I got them. They go for around $2,400 now. I don’t know the manufacturing process but it’s probably against the law.”

-Ara els fan així -va dir ella-. Són molt cars. Em van costar prop de 2000 dòlars cadascú quan els vaig comprar. Ara ja valen prop de 2400. No conec el procés de fabricació però probablement siga il·legal.

The little people were walking around on the top of the bar. Suddenly one of the little guys slapped one of the little women across the face.

Estaven passejant sobre la barra. De sobte, un dels homenets va bufetejar a una de les xicotetes dones.

“You bitch!” he said, “I’ve had it with you!”

-Tu, gossa! -va dir-. No vull saber res més de tu.

“No, George, you can’t,” she cried, “I love you! I’ll kill myself! I’ve got to have you!”

-No, George, no pots fer-me açò! -cridava ella plorant-. Jo t’estime! Em mataré! Et necessite!

“I don’t care,” said the little guy, and he took out a tiny cigarette and lit it. “I’ve got a right to live.”

-No m’importa -va dir l’homenet, i va traure un minúscul cigarret, encenent-ho amb gest altiu-. Tinc dret a fer el que em done la gana.

“If you don’t want her,” said the other little guy, “I’ll take her. I love her.”

-Si tu no la vols -va dir l’altre homenet- jo em quede amb ella, l’estime.

“But I don’t want you, Marty. I’m in love with George.”

-Però jo no et vull a tu, Marty. Jo estic enamorada de George.

“But he’s a bastard, Anna, a real bastard!”

-Però ell és un cabró, Anna, un vertader cabró.

“I know, but I love him anyhow.”

-Ho sé, però l’estime de totes maneres.

The little bastard then walked over and kissed the other little woman.

Llavors el xicotet cabró se’n va anar cap a l’altra doneta i la va besar.

“I’ve got a triangle going,” said the lady who had bought me the drink. “That’s Marty and George and Anna and Ruthie. George goes down, he goes down good. Marty’s kind of square.”

-Crec que se m’està formant un triangle -va dir la senyoreta que m’havia convidat al whisky–. Te’ls presentaré. Aqueix és Marty, i George, i Anna i Ruthie. George va de baixada, s’ho fa molt bé. Marty és una espècie de cap quadrat.

“Isn’t it sad to watch all that? Er, what’s your name?”

-No és trist mirar tot açò? Eh… Com et dius?

“Dawn. It’s a terrible name. But that’s what mothers do to their children sometimes.”

-Dawn. Un nom horrible, però açò és el que a voltes els fan les mares als seus fills.

“I’m Hank. But isn’t it sad…”

-Jo sóc Hank. Però no és trist…?

“No, it isn’t sad to watch it. I haven’t had much luck with my own loves, terrible luck really…”

-No, no és trist mirar tot açò. Jo no he tingut molta sort amb els meus propis amors, una sort horrible, francament.

“We all have terrible luck.”

-Tots tenim una sort horrible.

“I suppose. Anyhow, I bought these little people and now I watch them, and it’s like having it and not having any of the problems. But I get awfully hot when they start making love. That’s when it gets difficult.”

-Supose que sí. De totes maneres, em vaig comprar aquests homenets i ara m’entretinc mirant-los, és com no tenir cap dels problemes, però tenir-ho tot present. El dolent és que em pose terriblement calenta quan comencen a fer l’amor. És la part més difícil per a mi.

“Are they sexy?”

-Són sexys?

“Very, very sexy. My god, it makes me hot!”

-Molt, molt sexys! Déu, em posen de debò calenta!

“Why don’t you make them do it? I mean right now. We’ll watch them together.”

-Per què no els poses a fer-ho? Vull dir, ara mateix. Podrem mirar-los junts.

“Oh, you can’t make them do it. They’ve got to do it on their own.”

-Oh, no es poden manejar, han de posar-se a fer-ho pel seu compte.

“How often do they do it?”

-I amb quina freqüència ho fan?

“Oh, they’re pretty good. They go four or five times a week.”

-Oh, són bastant bons. Ho fan prop de quatre o cinc vegades per setmana.

They were walking around on the bar.

Mentrestant, ells passejaven per la barra.

“Listen,” said Marty, “give me a chance. Just give me a chance, Anna.”

-Escolta -deia Marty-, dóna’m una oportunitat. Només dóna’m una oportunitat, Anna…

“No,” said Anna, “my love belongs to George. There’s no other way it can be.”

-No -deia  Anna-, el meu amor pertany a George. No pot ser d’una altra manera.

George was kissing Ruthie, feeling her breasts. Ruthie was getting hot.

George estava besant a Ruthie, acariciant els seus pits. Ruthie estava començant a calfar-se.

“Ruthie’s getting hot,” I told Dawn. “She is, she really is.”

-Ruthie està començant a calfar-se -li vaig dir a Dawn-. Ja ho crec. Realment ho està.

“Yes, she is. She really is.”

-Sí que ho està. Ja ho crec que sí.

I was getting hot too. I grabbed Dawn and kissed her.

Jo també m’estava excitant. Vaig abraçar a Dawn i la vaig besar.

“Listen,” she said, “I don’t like them to make love in public. I’ll take them home and have them do it.”

-Mira -va dir ella-, no m’agrada que facen l’amor en públic. Me’ls vaig a portar a casa perquè ho facen allí.

“But then I can’t watch.”

-Però llavors no podré veure-ho.

“Well, you’ll just have to come with me.”

-Bé, només has de venir amb mi.

“All right,” I said, “let’s go.”

-D’acord -vaig dir- anem-nos-en.

I finished my drink and we walked out together. She carried the little people in the small wire cage. We got into her car and put the people in between us on the front seat. I looked at Dawn. She was really young and beautiful. She seemed to have good insides too. How could she have gone wrong with her men? There were so many ways those things could miss. The four little people had cost her $8,000. Just that to get away from relationships and not to get away from relationships. Her house was near the hills, a pleasant looking place. We got out and walked up to the door. I held the little people in the cage while Dawn opened the door.

Vaig acabar la meua beguda i eixim junts. Ella portava els homenets ficats en la gàbia. Pugem al cotxe i els vam posar entre nosaltres en el seient davanter. Vaig mirar a Dawn. Era realment jove i bella. Semblava també intel·ligent. Com podia haver fracassat amb els homes? Bé, hi havia tantes maneres de fracassar en unes relacions… Els homenets li havien costat 8000 dòlars. Tot açò només per a allunyar-se de les relacions sexuals sense allunyar-s’hi. La seua casa estava prop dels pujols, un lloc agradable. Eixírem del cotxe i anàrem cap a la porta. Jo portava a la genteta en la gàbia mentre Dawn obria la porta.

“I heard Randy Newman last week at The Troubador. Isn’t he great?” she asked.

-Vaig estar sentint a Randy Newman la setmana passada en el Trobador. Veritat que és gran? -em va preguntar.

“Yes, he is.”

-Sí que ho és -vaig contestar.

We walked into the front room and Dawn took the little people out and placed them on the coffeetable. Then she walked into the kitchen and opened the refrigerator and got out a bottle of wine. She brought in two glasses.

Hi entrem. Dawn va obrir la gàbia, els va traure i els va posar sobre la tauleta de cafè. Llavors es va ficar en la cuina, va obrir el frigorífic i va traure una botella de vi. La va portar en companyia de dues copes.

“Pardon me,” she said, “but you seem a little bit crazy. What do you do?”

-Perdona -va dir- però sembles una mica guillat. En què treballes?

“I’m a writer.”

-Sóc escriptor.

“Are you going to write about this?”

-I vas a escriure sobre açò?

“They’ll never believe it, but I’ll write it.”

-Mai no s’ho creurà ningú, però ho escriuré.

“Look,” said Dawn, “George has got Ruthie’s panties off. He’s fingering her. Ice?”

-Mira -va dir Dawn- George li ha llevat les bragues a Ruthie. Li està ficant el dit. Una mica de gel?

“Look,” said Dawn, “George has got Ruthie’s panties off. He’s fingering her. Ice?”

-Sí, ja ho veig. No, no vull gel. El tipus va ben dret.

“I don’t know,” said Dawn, “it really gets me hot to watch them. Maybe it’s because they’re so small. It really heats me up.”

-No sé -va dir Dawn-, però de debò que m’excita mirar-los. Potser és perquè són tan xicotets. Realment em calfen.

“I know what you mean.”

-Entenc el que vols dir.

“Look, George is going down on her now.”

-Mira, George l’està tombant, li ho va a fer.

“He is, isn’t he?”

-Sí, allà van.

“Look at them!”

-Mira’ls!

“God o mighty!”

-Déu Totpoderós!

I grabbed Dawn. We stood there kissing. As we did her eyes went from mine to them and then back to mine again. Little Marty and little Anna were watching too.

Vaig abraçar a Dawn. Comencem a besar-nos. Quan paràvem, els seus ulls passaven de mirar-me a mi a mirar als homenets fornicant, i després tornava a mirar-me de nou als ulls. Jo seguia sempre la seua mirada. El xicotet Marty i la xicoteta Anna també estaven mirant.

“Look,” said Marty, “they’re going to make it. We might as well make it. Even the big folks are going to make it. Look at them!”

-Mira -deia Marty-, ells ho estan fent. Nosaltres hauríem de fer-ho també. Fins i tot les persones grans van a fer-ho. Mira’ls!

“Did you hear that?” I asked Dawn. “They said we’re going to make it. Is that true?”

-Vas sentir açò? -li vaig preguntar a Dawn-. Ells diuen que anem a fer-ho, és veritat açò?

“I hope it’s true,” said Dawn.

-Espere que siga veritat -va dir Dawn.

I got her over to the couch and worked her dress up around her hips. I kissed her along the throat.

La vaig tombar sobre el sofà i li vaig pujar la faldilla per sobre de les cuixes. La vaig besar al llarg del coll.

“I love you,” I said.

-T’estime -vaig dir.

“Do you? Do you?”

-De debò? De debò?

“Yes, somehow, yes . . .”

-Sí, d’alguna manera, sí…

“All right,” said little Anna to little Marty, “we might as well do it too, even though I don’t love you.” 

-D’acord -va dir la xicoteta Anna al xicotet Marty- podem fer-ho nosaltres també, però que quede clar que jo no et vull.

They embraced in the middle of the coffeetable. I had worked Dawn’s panties off. Dawn groaned. Little Ruthie groaned. Marty closed in on Anna. It was happening everywhere. I got the idea that everybody in the world was doing it. Then I forgot about the rest of the world. We somehow walked into the bedroom. Then I got into Dawn for the long slow ride. . . .

Es van abraçar enmig de la tauleta de cafè. Jo li havia llevat ja a Dawn les bragues. Dawn gemegava. La xicoteta Ruthie gemegava. Marty li la va ficar per fi a la xicoteta Anna. Estava passant a tot arreu. Em va semblar com si tota la gent del món estiguera fent-ho. Llavors em vaig oblidar de tota l’altra gent del món. Ens vam anar al dormitori i allí li la vaig ficar a Dawn en una llarga i tranquil·la cavalcada…

When she came out of the bathroom I was reading a dull dull story in Playboy.

Quan ella va eixir del bany jo estava llegint una estúpida història en el Playboy.

“It was so good,” she said.

-Va estar tan bé -va dir.

My pleasure,” I answered.

-Va ser un plaer -vaig contestar.

She got back into bed with me. I put the magazine down.

Es va tornar a ficar en el llit amb mi. Vaig deixar la revista.

“Do you think we can make it together?” she asked.

-Creus que ens ho podem fer junts? -em va preguntar.

“What do you mean?”

-Què vols dir?

“I mean, do you think we can make it together for any length of time?”

-Vull dir que si tu crees que podem seguir així, junts, durant algun temps.

“I don’t know. Things happen. The beginning is always easiest.”

-No sé. Les coses ocorren. El principi sempre és el més fàcil.

Then there was a scream from the front room. “Oh-oh,” said Dawn. She leaped up and ran out of the room. I followed.

Llavors escoltàrem un crit provinent de la saleta. «Oh oh», va dir Dawn. Es va alçar i va eixir corrents de l’habitació. Jo la vaig seguir.

When I got, she was holding George in her hands.

Quan vaig arribar, ella estava sostenint a George en les seues mans.

“Oh, my god!”

-Oh, Déu meu!

“What happened?”

-Què ha passat?

“Anna did it to him!”

-Anna li ho va fer.

“Did what?”

-Què li va fer?

“She cut off his balls! George is a eunuch!”

-Li va tallar les pilotes! George és un eunuc!

“Wow!”

-Uau!

“Get me some toilet paper, quickly! He might bleed to death!”

-Porta’m una mica de paper higiènic, ràpid! Podria morir desagnat!

“That son of a bitch,” said little Anna from the coffeetable, “if I can’t have George, nobody can have him!”

-Aqueix fill de puta -deia la xicoteta Anna des de la tauleta de cafè- si jo no puc tenir a George, ningú no el tindrà.

“Now both of you belong to me!” said Marty.

-Ara les dues em pertanyen! -va dir Marty.

“No, you’ve got to choose between us,” said Anna.

-Ah no, has de triar una de nosaltres -va dir Anna.

“Which one of us is it?” asked Ruthie.

-Quina de nosaltres és? -va preguntar Ruthie.

“I love you both,” said Marty.

-Jo les estime a totes dues -va dir Marty.

“He’s stopped bleeding,” said Dawn. “He’s out cold.”

-Ha parat de sagnar -va dir Dawn -s’està quedant fred.

She wrapped George in a handkerchief and put him on the mantle.

Va embolicar a George en un mocador i el va posar sobre les estovalles.

“I mean,” Dawn said to me, “if you don’t think we can make it, I don’t want to go into it anymore.”

-Vull dir -va dir Dawn- que si tu creus que allò nostre no va a funcionar, no vull seguir per més temps.

“I think I love you. Dawn.”

-Crec que t’estime, Dawn.

“Look,” she said, “Marty’s embracing Ruthie!”

-Mira -va dir ella-. Marty està abraçant a Ruthie!

“Are they going to make it?”

-Creus que van a fer-ho?

“I don’t know. They seem excited.”

-No sé. Semblen excitats.

Dawn picked Anna up and put her in the wire cage.

Dawn va agafar a Anna i la va ficar en la xicoteta gàbia.

“Let me out of here! I’ll kill both of them! Let me out of here!” – she screamed.

-Deixeu-me eixir! Els mataré als dos! Deixeu-me eixir! -cridava.

George moaned from inside his handkerchief upon the mantle. Marty had Ruthie’s panties off. I pulled Dawn to me. She was beautiful and young and had insides. I could be in love again. It was possible. We kissed. I fell down inside her eyes. Then I got up and began running. I knew where I was. A cockroach and an eagle made love. Time was a fool with a banjo. I kept running. Her long hair fell across my face.

George va gemegar des de l’interior del mocador sobre les estovalles. Marty li havia llevat les bragues a Ruthie. Jo em vaig atraure a Dawn. Era jove, bella i intel·ligent. Podia tornar a estar enamorat de nou. Era possible. Ens besàrem. Em vaig submergir en els seus grans ulls marrons. Llavors em vaig alçar i vaig arrancar a córrer. Sabia on estava. Una cuquerola i un àguila feien l’amor. El temps era un babau amb un banjo. Seguia corrent. La seua llarga cabellera em queia per la cara.

“I’ll kill everybody!” screamed little Anna. She rattled about in her wire cage at 3 a.m. in the morning.

-Mataré a tothom! -cridava la xicoteta Anna. S’agitava sacsejant la seua gàbia de filferro a les tres de la matinada.

FI


bukowski cridant

 NO WAY TO PARADISE

I was sitting in a bar on Western Ave. It was around midnight and I was in my usual confused state. I mean, you know, nothing works right: the women, the jobs, the no jobs, the weather, the dogs. Finally you just sit in a kind of stricken state and wait like you’re on the bus stop bench waiting for death.

Well, I was sitting there and here comes this one with long dark hair, a good body, sad brown eyes. I didn’t turn on for her. I ignored her even though she had taken the stool next to mine when there were a dozen other empty seats. In fact, we were the only ones in the bar except for the bartender. She ordered a dry wine. Then she asked me what I was drinking.

“Scotch and water.”

“Give him a scotch and water,” she told the barkeep. Well, that was unusual.

She opened her purse, removed a small wire cage and took some little people out and sat them on the bar. They were all around three inches tall and they were alive and properly dressed. There were four of them, two men and two women.

“They make these now,” she said, “they’re very expensive. They cost around $2,000 a piece when I got them. They go for around $2,400 now. I don’t know the manufacturing process but it’s probably against the law.”

The little people were walking around on the top of the bar. Suddenly one of the little guys slapped one of the little women across the face.

“You bitch,” he said, “I’ve had it with you!”

“No, George, you can’t,” she cried, “I love you! I’ll kill myself! I’ve got to have you!”

“I don’t care,” said the little guy, and he took out a tiny cigarette and lit it.

“I’ve got a right to live.”

“If you don’t want her,” said the other little guy, “I’ll take her. I love her.”

“But I don’t want you, Marty. I’m in love with George.”

“But he’s a bastard, Anna, a real bastard!”

“I know, but I love him anyhow.”

The little bastard then walked over and kissed the other little woman.

“I’ve got a triangle going,” said the lady who had bought me the drink.

“That’s Marty and George and Anna and Ruthie. George goes down, he goes down good. Marty’s kind of square.”

“Isn’t it sad to watch all that? Er, what’s your name?”

“Dawn. It’s a terrible name. But that’s what mothers do to their children sometimes.”

“I’m Hank. But isn’t it sad . . .”

“No, it isn’t sad to watch it. I haven’t had much luck with my own loves, terrible luck really…”

“We all have terrible luck.”

“I suppose. Anyhow, I bought these little people and now I watch them, and it’s like having it and not having any of the problems. But I get awfully hot when they start making love. That’s when it gets difficult.”

“Are they sexy?”

“Very, very sexy. My god, it makes me hot!”

“Why don’t you make them do it? I mean, right now. We’ll watch them together.”

“Oh, you can’t make them do it. They’ve got to do it on their own.”

“How often do they do it?”

“Oh, they’re pretty good. They go four or five times a week.”

They were walking around on the bar.

“Listen,” said Marty, “give me a chance. Just give me a chance, Anna.”

“No,” said Anna, “my love belongs to George. There’s no other way it can be.”

George was kissing Ruthie, feeling her breasts. Ruthie was getting hot.

“Ruthie’s getting hot,” I told Dawn.

“She is. She really is.”

I was getting hot too. I grabbed Dawn and kissed her.

“Listen,” she said, “I don’t like them to make love in public. I’ll take them home and have them do it.”

“But then I can’t watch.”

“Well, you’ll just have to come with me.”

“All right,” I said, “let’s go.”

I finished my drink and we walked out together. She carried the little people in the small wire cage. We got into her car and put the people in between us on the front seat. I looked at Dawn. She was really young and beautiful. She seemed to have good insides too. How could she have gone wrong with her men? There were so many ways those things could miss. The four little people had cost her $8,000. Just that to get away from relationships and not to get away from relationships.

Her house was near the hills, a pleasant looking place. We got out and walked up to the door. I held the little people in the cage while Dawn opened the door.

“I heard Randy Newman last week at The Troubador. Isn’t he great?” she asked.

“Yes, he is.”

We walked into the front room and Dawn took the little people out and placed them on the coffeetable. Then she walked into the kitchen and opened the refrigerator and got out a bottle of wine. She brought in two glasses.

“Pardon me,” she said, “but you seem a little bit crazy. What do you do?”

“I’m a writer.”

“Are you going to write about this?”

“They’ll never believe it, but I’ll write it.”

“Look,” said Dawn, “George has got Ruthie’s panties off. He’s fingering her. Ice?”

“Yes, he is. No, no ice. Straight’s fine.”

“I don’t know,” said Dawn, “it really gets me hot to watch them. Maybe it’s because they’re so small. It really heats me up.”

“I know what you mean.”

“Look, George is going down on her now.”

“He is, isn’t he?”

“Look at them!”

“God o mighty!” I grabbed Dawn. We stood there kissing. As we did her eyes went from mine to them and then back to mine again. Little Marty and little Anna were watching too.

“Look,” said Marty, “they’re going to make it. We might as well make it. Even the big folks are going to make it. Look at them!”

“Did you hear that?” I asked Dawn. “They said we’re going to make it. Is that true?”

“I hope it’s true,” said Dawn.

I got her over to the couch and worked her dress up around her hips. I kissed her along the throat.

“I love you,” I said.

“Do you? Do you?”

“Yes, somehow, yes . . .”

“All right,” said little Anna to little Marty, “we might as well do it too, even though I don’t love you.” They embraced in the middle of the coffeetable.

I had worked Dawn’s panties off. Dawn groaned. Little Ruthie groaned. Marty closed in on Anna. It was happening everywhere. I got the idea that everybody in the world was doing it. Then I forgot about the rest of the world. We somehow walked into the bedroom. Then I got into Dawn for the long slow ride. . . .

When she came out of the bathroom I was reading a dull dull story in Playboy.

“It was so good,” she said.

“My pleasure,” I answered. She got back into bed with me. I put the magazine down.

“Do you think we can make it together?” she asked.

“What do you mean?”

“I mean, do you think we can make it together for any length of time?”

“I don’t know. Things happen. The beginning is always easiest.”

Then there was a scream from the front room.

“Oh-oh,” said Dawn. She leaped up and ran out of the room. I followed. When I got there she was holding George in her hands.

“Oh, my god!”

“What happened?”

“Anna did it to him!”

“Did what?”

“She cut off his balls! George is a eunuch!”

“Wow!”

“Get me some toilet paper, quickly! He might bleed to death!”

“That son of a bitch,” said little Anna from the coffeetable, “if I can’t have George, nobody can have him!”

“Now both of you belong to me!” said Marty.

“No, you’ve got to choose between us,” said Anna.

“Which one of us is it?” asked Ruthie.

“I love you both,” said Marty.

“He’s stopped bleeding,” said Dawn.

“He’s out cold.” She wrapped George in a handkerchief and put him on the mantle.

“I mean,” Dawn said to me, “if you don’t think we can make it, I don’t want to go into it anymore.”

“I think I love you. Dawn.”

“Look,” she said, “Marty’s embracing Ruthie!”

“Are they going to make it?”

“I don’t know. They seem excited.”

Dawn picked Anna up and put her in the wire cage.

“Let me out of here! I’ll kill both of them! Let me out of here!”

George moaned from inside his handkerchief upon the mantle. Marty had Ruthie’s panties off. I pulled Dawn to me. She was beautiful and young and had insides. I could be in love again. It was possible. We kissed. I fell down inside her eyes. Then I got up and began running. I knew where I was. A cockroach and an eagle made love. Time was a fool with a banjo. I kept running. Her long hair fell across my face.

“I’ll kill everybody!” screamed little Anna. She rattled about in her wire cage at 3 a.m. in the morning.

Quant a rexval

M'agrada Wagner, l'òpera, la clàssica en general i els cantautors, sobretot Raimon i Llach. M'interessa la política, la història, la filosofia, la literatura, el cinema i l'educació. Crec que la cultura és un bé de primera necessitat que ha d'estar a l'abast de tothom.
Aquesta entrada s'ha publicat en Literatura, Uncategorized i etiquetada amb . Afegiu a les adreces d'interès l'enllaç permanent.

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